


Participation

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agreeing to be witness at an unknown couple’s rushed wedding in exchange for a small fee, Rumple Gold is about to have the surprise of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the apparently actual “Marry a stranger” experiment.

Rumple keeps to the side of the pavement, as he always does, avoiding the other people there as much as he can, his head down. He doesn't like the large open spaces of the university campus, let alone all those people crowding there.

The studies which are conducted there are what keeps his son and himself alive though, the researchers paying him seemingly inane amounts of cash to participate in their experiments. It doesn't seem to matter to them that he's lame and can't write all that well, so he is happy to endure the noisy and populous campus in search of new studies to be part of.

He doesn't quite like some of the experiments that require more than filling in questionnaires and verbally answering questions. Still, the knowledge that he is providing for his son this way is more than enough for him to try his luck on the campus several times a week.

Making his way to the far less pleasant part of town where his boy is about to come home from school to a dark and cold one bedroom apartment, Rumple almost walks into someone who steps out from the small church just outside of campus.

"Do you have some minutes to spare, sir?" the ceremoniously dressed man in question asks.

Rumple looks behind him, but there isn't anyone who the other man might be addressing.

"M-me?" he asks, not understanding at all why the other man is talking to him. "What's this about?"

"I'm about to lead a wedding of a young couple. Due to a misunderstanding, the witnesses won't make it in time. The couple wants to be married now regardless; they have to catch a plane to start their honeymoon. The problem is that they can't be married without a witness being present. They don't care who the new witness is, just as long as there is someone whose presence ensures they can be wed right now."

The man - a priest, Rumple realizes - looks at him expectantly.

"You want _me_ to be the witness?"

"Exactly. All you have to do is stand there and… well, _witness_. Does ten dollars sound reasonable in exchange for a few minutes of your time?"

Rumple brightens, nodding eagerly. Ten dollars is a considerable addition to this week's income... he even won't have to actually do anything and he'll still be back home before his boy comes back from school.

"That sounds very reasonable," he agrees, trying to sound not too eager.

"Very well. Please follow me inside."

Rumple does as he is told, painfully aware of his shabby clothing as he does so. Still, the priest asked him for this knowing what he looks like, so he supposes that it doesn't matter that he's going to show up like this at a couple's wedding. The bride and groom probably won't even notice that he is there, no doubt far too caught up in each other.

He and his ex wife were just like that, after all - or at least, so he thought back in the day, when there was still room for hope in his life, when he still could allow himself to think that he was likable… that he was _lovable_.

All such thoughts - and all others - come to a sudden halt when he is lead to the altar of the small church and lays his eyes on the couple that's about to be married. The groom is tall and handsome, but he has a slightly arrogant look about him, looking like he isn't particularly happy to be there.

The bride however… Rumple swallows heavily, his throat going dry at the sight of her. She's no doubt by far the loveliest woman he has ever seen. His heart all but gives out when she looks at him and smiles, as if he's more than an old, crippled man who is only slightly above begging to make his livelihood.

He blinks several times, convinced that the woman can't be real, that she's a vision of sorts, a petite, pale skinned angel in a wedding dress. But she's still there when he focuses his gaze on her once more, gentleness and beauty personified.

"Let's get started, shall we?" the priest announces cheerfully, gesturing for Rumple to stand almost right next to the bride.

He catches the scent of roses as he does so and he wishes that the ground could swallow him whole at the realization that the lovely woman must be able to sense his probably far from appealing smell as well.

"For the record, I'd like to know your name."

Only when the priests clears his throat pointedly, Rumple realizes that he has been addressed.

"I'm Rumple Gold," he murmurs, looking away from the beautiful woman to stare at his worn shoes as he shares the ridiculous name which fate - or rather, his father - bestowed on him all those years ago.

"My name is Belle," the bride says kindly, offering him her hand.

"It's… it's a pleasure to meet you, B-Belle," he stutters, only realizing that she means for him to shake her hand when it enters the line of sight between his eyes and his shoes.

Taking her hand in his own, he has never been more ashamed of his calloused palms and black fingernails, not to mention the sudden sweat breaking out when he takes her small, flawless hand in his own and briefly shakes it.

Rumple glances quickly at the groom as soon as he has released Belle's hand, fearing that he won't be amused that his soon-to-be wife is touched by a highly unappealing stranger like this. But to his confusion, the still nameless man looks like he couldn't care less.

"It is my duty to remind you of the solemn and binding character of the ceremony of marriage," the priest intones, looking earnestly at all three of them. "Could I ask you please to repeat after me…"

Rumple is startled to find the priest looking at him. He hadn't expected that he would actually have to say something. But he nods quickly, thinking of the ten dollars which are promised to him. He squares his shoulders, listening intently so he hopefully won't make any mistake when saying the words he has to repeat.

"I do solemnly declare that I know not of any lawful impediment why I, Rumple Gold, may not be joined in matrimony to Belle French."

Only when he has repeated each and every single word of that sentence himself, focusing on the order and pronunciation of the syllables rather than their meaning, it dawns on Rumple that this isn't quite right.

"Wait," he objects, looking at the priest in shock, "this isn't how it's supposed to go!"

"Everything is going exactly as it should," the priest says in a reassuring voice. "You're doing wonderfully. Just continue to repeat after me."

The priest continues and so does Rumple, but he has considerably more difficulty properly repeating the words now that he focuses on what he's actually saying exactly.

"This is wrong," he insists again when he realizes with increasing panic that it sounds like _he_ is getting married to the beautiful woman, rather than the still seemingly uninterested groom on the other side of her. " _I_ shouldn't be saying this!"

"Trust me, you're doing it exactly right," the priest says, smiling at him. "Just one more sentence, you're almost there."

"But I can't…"

"I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Rumple Gold, do take thee, Belle French, to be my lawfully wedded wife."

The priest raises a meaningful eyebrow, urging Rumple to once more repeat the words which he just said.

"Is this a joke?" he squeaks, looking frantically from the priest to the couple that's supposed to get married – to _each other,_ that is - and back again. " _I_ am not going to be her husband!"

Rumple has no idea what he has gotten himself into. At the same time, he can almost weep at the irony of seemingly having to talk himself out of wedding the woman who appears to be the complete opposite of the awful woman whom he _did_ marry once upon a time.

Jokes and pranks have been made far too often at his expense - a lot of them by his ex wife, in fact - but this has to be the most bizarre and potentially the most cruel one of them all.

"It's all right, Rumple," the beautiful woman - _Belle -_ smiles at him. "Just say the words."

Looking at her radiant face, he is unable to do anything but comply.

"I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Rumple Gold, do take thee, Belle French, to be my lawfully wedded wife," he mutters, unable to look away from the woman whom he can't possibly be _actually_ marrying.

"Splendid!" exclaims the priest as soon as Rumple has finished speaking, suddenly sounding somewhat… unpriestly. "Now it's your turn, Belle. Please repeat after me."

To his ever increasing bewilderment, the bride says the same words as he just did, all the while looking lovingly at him, her back towards the groom who just stands there, examining his manicured nails.

"... I, Belle French, do take thee, Rumple Gold, to be my lawfully wedded husband."

"No, this can't be," Rumple mutters, but he doesn't wake up from what _has_ to be a crazy dream when he roughly pinches his upper arm.

Instead, the priest hands a ring to him and gestures for him to put it around her finger. Rumple can only stand there and look at Belle and the priest in disbelief… or at least, until the priest hands the other ring to her and she subsequently reaches for his free hand.

Like she's doing nothing out of the ordinary, the impossible woman at his side simply takes his hand and ever so gently places the golden ring on his finger. Gaping at her, Rumple just lets it happen… and when she wiggles her eyebrows at him, he doesn't know what else to do but take her beautiful hand and reverently put the other ring on her fourth finger in return.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest continues, addressing first the bride and then Rumple himself. "You may kiss the bride."

He all but chokes upon hearing those words, despite everything that happened so far not expecting _this._ He may have been rooted to the floor before, but he's practically paralyzed when she smiles at him in a way that can only be described as inviting.

Rumple knows that he should demand an explanation so he might finally find out what on earth is going on here. Better yet, he just should leave; whatever is going on here, it can't be anything good.

But he can't do anything at all when Belle's expression softens further and she takes a small step towards him, further reducing the already limited distance between them. Staring at her with wide, adoring eyes, his heart all but beating its way out of his chest, all he can do is close his eyes and instinctively angle his head in anticipation.

Very much aware that this is the most likely point where the whole situation will be revealed to be one big joke, that he will be left standing here like an utter fool and like the ugly man he is, Rumple is thoroughly surprised when there's truly the lightest of pressure against his lips.

Opening his eyes slightly, he finds that Belle is indeed kissing him. The discovery draws a pathetic moan from him, but when that sound doesn't appear to be discourage her, all he can do is close his eyes again and surrender himself to the circumstances, to this angel in her wedding dress.

He has no idea how to kiss her back, how he might make her feel if only a little as wonderful like she does him. But judging from the way she presses her mouth more firmly against his and places her hands on his sides, she doesn't seem to object.

She gently withdraws at what he supposes is the natural ending of their kiss. Quite some time passes until he opens his eyes again, his world spinning on its axis. When he finally has gathered the courage to look at her, and when the butterflies in his belly have somewhat calmed down again, he finds Belle looking at him with an ever gentle smile on her face.

"Well, that was… interesting."

Rumple looks around for the source of the sudden sound and finds that the priest has spoken. Having forgotten all about him, Rumple finds that he is for some reason scribbling furiously in a notebook while managing to look at the two of them at the same time.

"Belle, _what_ did I tell you about breaking character?" the man who suddenly doesn't seem like a priest _at all_ continues. "You really outdid yourself this time. What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I'm sorry Jefferson, I just…"

Looking back at the beauty who is still standing in front of him, Rumple notices that she's looking intently at him and that she's smiling no longer.

"Are we finished now?" the supposed groom says, speaking for the first time as he addresses the man in the priest's clothes. "I want my money."

"Of course," the man in question says, reaching for what appears to be a pile of cash in one of the pockets of his robe.

Rumple has no idea whatsoever what is going on, but his confirmation that this is some kind of hoax has finally been confirmed. It will doubtlessly be only a matter of time before there will be revealed just how badly he has been fooled and taken advantage of.

He isn't going to wait for that moment.

Casting one last glance at the beautiful woman who he, despite everything, doesn't regret being kissed by, he tightens his hold on his cane and briskly turns towards the exit of the building.

"Rumple, wait!"

Ignoring the too lovely woman as she cries out for him for a reason he'll probably never know, let alone understand, Rumple does what he has always done best whenever he's afraid. He flees, limping as quickly out of the small church as his bad legs allows him, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the woman whom still has his heart fluttering.


	2. Chapter 2

"Rumple, please, wait!"

He had no illusions whatsoever about the ability of the petite but healthy young woman to outrun him if she wanted to, but Rumple hadn't expected in a thousand year that she actually would come after him.

"What is it?" he asks warily, purposefully not looking at her when she lightly grasps his arm from behind to turn him around to face her.

There's a part of him that very much would like to cast one last glance at the beautiful woman he sort of thought he was marrying during several breathtaking minutes. But all in all it's too painful to do so now that he knows that it was all a lie, especially because she's still wearing her wedding dress.

"I… I'm going to need to have the ring back, Rumple."

"Oh, yes, of course," he mumbles, wondering just how upset he must have been to forget about the symbol of the hoax he just unwillingly found himself to be the central part of.

_Of course you would never actually marry_ me _._

He pries the golden band off his finger, not allowing himself any sorrow or wishful thinking, and hands it to her.

"Here is the money you were promised," she says, offering him a ten dollar bill in return.

He takes it without a word. Taking the money only makes him feel both more foolish and more sad, but the ten dollars will make his son's and his own life considerably less difficult this week.

"Is there anything you want to say, Rumple? Anything you want to ask?"

"No," he says briskly, not wanting to be any more humiliated.

Still, he can't help but wonder why she's still holding his arm, why her touch is so unnecessarily gentle.

"Aren't you at least curious about what was going on?"

"No," he lies again, his voice trembling.

"I would like to say something, if that's all right with you?"

"If you insists," he says, still not looking at her.

There's no ignoring the hem of her white wedding dress though as the wind blows it against his legs. Even that tiny detail makes him wish yet more that all of this wouldn't be a lie, that he could actually be married to this wonderful woman.

"Let's sit down, shall we?" she asks, guiding him to a bench on the roadside before he can object.

Rumple is barely aware of the movement, all of his attention focused on the way her hand is on his upper arm… on how he wishes that she would touch him like this much, much more often.

"First of all, I'm so sorry for what just happened, especially for my own part in it. I dread to think what you're thinking and feeling now."

He can feel her questioning eyes on him, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction of answering her, if only because it will probably betray just how hurt he is.

"Without knowing it, you just participated in an experiment on obedience."

"It can't have been an experiment," he objects, despite himself. "I've been in experiments here on the university before. I may not always know what the experiment is about, but at least I always _know_ that I'm part of an experiment."

"This is a different kind of experiment," she explains gently. "To make certain that participants act as naturally as possible, it's essential that they don't know that their actions are being monitored."

"So now you know how easily an old, ugly man can be tricked into thinking that a lovely young woman would actually like to marry him."

"You're neither old nor ugly!" she cries out with bewildering conviction, as if she finds the mere notion offending. "Rumple, how can you possibly think that?!"

He snorts in disbelief, wondering whether the so-called experiment is still going on.

"Do you even need to ask?" he inquires bitterly, gesturing at himself, lingering on his bad ankle for emphasis.

"If you must know, I think you're quite handsome," she says, almost stubbornly. "And very gentle, too. I like that."

"I've been tricked enough for today, if you don't mind," he says, tears of humiliation prickling his eyes as he continues to stare at his tightly clasped hands in his lap.

"The experiment ended when you walked away, Rumple. This is real. It's just us now. I'll explain the experiment to you, if you don't mind. I just hope you will understand what just happened and that there were no bad intentions."

Sniffling despite his best efforts, he sits still and keeps as quiet as he can, both hoping and dreading that she's going to say more.

"Like I said earlier, it was an experience on obedience," she continues, speaking softly. "We've done this experiment almost a dozen times already. Basically, what we want to see is how people react to authority figures such as priests - or persons who pretend to be them - in seemingly ordinary situations. We want to see how far that obedience goes even when the situation turns absurd… like a witness rather than the groom being asked to marry the bride."

"I don't see what would be the point of all that."

"It gives us insight into the psychology of human beings… into human nature, if you will. It contributes to the already existing knowledge on the topic."

"What's in it for you?" he asks, finding it difficult to believe that anyone, let alone someone as lovely as her, would go around kissing strangers all day only for the sake of scientific development.

"Several things. I'm doing this as a favor to Jefferson, the lead scientist. You've seen him; he was the priest. He's eccentric, I'll give you that, but he really is quite brilliant… and he's a friend of mine. I receive a small compensation for my participation, just like you, and… well, I find it very interesting to be part of the research, to see for myself how people react."

"And to kiss men like me," he mutters bitterly, not understanding at all why she sounds so cheerful about all of this.

"You were the only man I ever kissed within the experiment," she says, reaching for him with a tentative hand. He accepts her touch only because he's as desperate and pathetic as he is, inwardly shivering when she runs her thumb gently along his knuckles. "In fact, you're the only man I've kissed for quite some time in any context."

"But why would you…"

"Why did I kiss _you_ , you mean?" she asks when he falters, unable to articulate the notion that she would kiss him of all people. "That's very simple. I kissed you because I wanted to."

"But how…"

Most things she has said so far don't make any sense, but the idea that she would like to kiss _him_ is beyond ridiculous.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I _wanted_ to kiss you when I saw you standing there, looking very handsome and looking at me as if I am the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"

"You _are_ the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he mutters, unable to prevent himself any longer from looking at her radiant face now that he still can. "But as for me being 'handsome'..."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not?" she says, squeezing his hand lightly. "I kissed you because I wanted to. That's all there is to it. The experiment is supposed to end after Jefferson tells the man to kiss the bride, but before he actually kisses me. I'm certainly not supposed to encourage you to kiss me. But in your case, I _wanted_ to. Didn't you hear that Jefferson was upset with me for 'breaking character'?"

Now that she mentions it, Rumple realizes that the ending of their 'wedding' didn't go the way one might expect if the only purpose of it was to make fun of fools like him.

"So you… you aren't getting married?" he asks carefully, hope blossoming in his heart despite everything.

"No, I'm not marrying anyone," she says, smiling at him with that gentleness which has utterly enchanted him from the moment he first laid eyes on her.

"And you… you like _me_?" he asks next, even as he asks the question still feeling like that can't possibly be true.

"From what I know of you so far, I definitely like you very much, yes. In fact, I hope that I can get to know you better."

"You'd actually like to…"

"I'd like to spend more time with you, yes," she says, still smiling. "I'm going to have to get back to the library for my actual job soon, but… Maybe we can see each other again tonight?"

"I… I can't. Not tonight," he says, unable to decide whether it's a good thing or not that he has to look after Neal and that he thus won't be able to continue the very strange acquaintance which is developing between this very wonderful woman and himself.

"Maybe next evening? Or the one after that, or during the weekend?"

"I can't," he mutters, lowering his head. "You see, I've got a son. His name is Neal and he's only eight years old. His mother, she… she left. I have to look after him. I _want_ to look after him, but… I have to stay with him whenever he isn't at school."

"Would you mind if I'd spend time with you _and_ your son?" she simply asks, bewildering him yet further by being not discouraged by his single fatherhood and by showing what appears to be genuine interest in getting to know his son as well.

"If you wouldn't mind…" he says, realizing that Neal would possibly thrilled to get to know her as well.

"I wouldn't mind at all! I'm actually looking forward to it. Do you think the three of us can meet this week?"

"Maybe tonight?" he asks, unable to prevent eagerness from creeping into his voice.

"Tonight would be perfect!"

"Would you mind to visit our home?" he says, firmly reminding himself that, no matter how lovely it might be to be with her, there's very little that he can actually afford in an attempt to entertain her.

"I wouldn't mind at all."

"Let me write down the address," he says, finding a piece of crumbled paper and one of the many pens he gets from filling in surveys in his pocket. "It isn't much. Our apartment, I mean. Not much at all. Just so you know. I… well, I might as well tell you right now that I take parts in experiments for a living. There isn't much else out there for me."

Rather than scorning at his circumstances like so many others do, Belle looks at him in sympathy and covers his hand with hers. She squeezes it again, but this time she doesn't withdraw after she has done so.

"How about we meet at seven and I take care of dinner tonight?"

"I can't ask of you to…"

"Of course you can. You provide the location, I provide the food. Besides, I'm _offering_. How does Chinese takeaway sound?"

"It sounds perfect," he breathes, willing the tears away which threaten to well in his eyes once more at her easy acceptance of his and his son's life - and, yet more than that, to bring a flicker of light into it. "Neal will like that very much."

"And what about you, Rumple?"

"I'll enjoy it very much as well," he says, already knowing that it's going to be the best meal that his son and he will have had in months, if not years… and that her company will make the night truly magical.

"I'll see you tonight at seven, at your place."

"I'm looking forward to it," he says, smiling tentatively at her. "Very much."

"Me too," she replies, as if it makes perfect sense that someone like him can give her any sort of delight.

There's a noise of sorts coming from her phone and he almost hates the thing for turning her attention away from him, especially when she looks from the screen back at him with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'd _love_ to stay here and talk with you, but I really have to go now."

"I understand. We'll see each other tonight."

"Exactly. At seven. And I'm not gone _yet_."

She looks mischievously at him, scooting closer to him on the bench. To his bewilderment, she continues moving towards him even when their thighs are already touching.

"Can I kiss you again?" she whispers, looking at him with incomprehensible but unmistakable hope. "Without any pretense this time?"

All he can do is nod dumbly, sitting entirely still and even keeping his suddenly uncooperative eyes open when she presses her lips against his once more. His lack of knowledge on how to response to this incredible expression of affection doesn't seem to deter her however, for Belle kisses him a bit more firmly and lingers longer than she did last time.

The wonderful way it makes him feel, let alone the fact that she kisses him at all, is almost as mystifying as the previous time that she did so. But it's just as wonderful too, and he dares to hope that there will be many, many more moments like these in the future.

"I'll see you in a few hours," she says softly, her eyes bright and her smile broad when she withdraws.

He nods again, stupidly, his lips tingling and his entire body feeling like it's floating several inches above the ground. At least he has the presence of mind - and the re-found control over his body - to mirror her gesture when she waves at him in goodbye after she has gotten up.

Rumple watches her head towards her workplace and continues to sit where he is for quite a while after that, savoring the unfamiliar sensations of hope and happiness which shimmer all throughout him. When he does begin his journey home, his mind already coming up with a variety of very lovely scenarios for that night, there's a spring in his step for the first time in forever.


End file.
